Claimed By The Alpha, Marked By The Biker-Chapter 53: Games and memories

Kianna’s PoV:

I lingered on the terrace longer than I meant to, the black card burning a hole in my clutch like a secret I wasn’t sure I wanted.

The city lights blurred as my mind raced—who was that girl? How did she know so much? And what "price" was she talking about?

The cold seeped through my dress, finally chasing me back inside. The ballroom was even more chaotic now, the music pounding harder whilst bodies pressed closer on the dance floor.

I wove through the crowd, scanning for Lesley.I found her near the bar, arm slung around Marcus’s shoulders, both of them laughing hysterically at some inside joke with a group of college kids.

She spotted me and waved wildly. "Kianna! There you are! We’re heading upstairs—sleepover after-party in room 512. You in?"

I hesitated. A hotel room full of strangers? After the weirdness in the bathroom, my instincts screamed to go home, curl up in bed, and pretend the night never happened.

But the thought of the empty dorm room—of sitting alone with my thoughts, the tub water running in my mind...made my chest tighten.

"Sure," I said, forcing a smile. "Why not?"

Lesley’s eyes lit up. "Yes! It’s gonna be epic—games, snacks and no curfew. Come on!"

We gathered with about a dozen others—half girls, half guys, all buzzing from the party below.

Marcus had somehow scored the key from his senior friend, and we piled into the elevator, the air thick with perfume, cologne, and the faint tang of spilled drinks.

Laughter echoed off the mirrored walls as someone passed around a flask. I took a small sip when it came my way—warm whiskey that burned and settled the nerves jittering under my skin.

Room 512 was a suite—spacious, with two king beds, a pull-out couch, and a balcony overlooking the city.

Fairy lights were strung haphazardly around the headboards, and someone had already raided the mini-bar.

Music blasted from a portable speaker, a playlist of upbeat pop and hip-hop that made the floor vibrate. Pillows and blankets were tossed everywhere, turning the space into a makeshift fort.

Not just a girls’ slumber party, this was mixed with wilderness, the kind of thing that could go sideways fast.

"Truth or Dare first!" one girl shouted—tall, with pink-streaked hair and a sequined top. Everyone cheered, forming a loose circle on the floor.

Lesley pulled me down beside her, squeezing my hand. "Relax, it’s fun. No pressure."

I nodded, but my mind was elsewhere. The card. The red-dressed girl’s words and the fated mate bond which was ticking down like a bomb.

I scanned the circle absently—faces blurring into one another, until my eyes snagged on him.

He was sitting across from me, leaning against the bed frame, a red Solo cup in one hand. Tall, broad-shouldered, with messy dark hair that fell over his forehead and sharp green eyes that seemed to cut through the dim lighting.

He wasn’t laughing like the others; just watching. And his gaze kept drifting... to me.

Heat crept up my cheeks. I looked away, focusing on the game as it started. Truths flew—embarrassing crushes, worst hookups and dirty secrets.

Dares escalated: a guy had to shotgun a beer and a girl kissed her best friend on a dare.

Laughter roared, but every time I glanced up, he was still staring. Not creepy, exactly—more intense. Curious. Like he was trying to figure something out.

I shifted uncomfortably, pulling my knees to my chest. Was it the dress? Did I have something on my face? Or was he just one of those guys who stared to get a reaction?

The blush faded into irritation. By the time the bottle spun to me—"Truth: Who’s the last person you kissed?"—I mumbled Mordred’s name and passed, but the staring didn’t stop.

Screw this.

When the game broke for a snack run—someone raiding the vending machine down the hall—I stood up, weaving through the scattered bodies to approach him.

He was alone now, scrolling on his phone by the balcony door.

"Hey," I said, sharper than I intended. "What’s your problem?"

He looked up, startled, those green eyes widening. "What?"

"You’ve been staring at me all night. If you’ve got something to say, say it. Otherwise, cut it out—it’s weird."

He set his cup down, standing slowly. Up close, he was even taller, probably six-two, with a lean build that spoke of someone who ran or played sports.

His face softened into something almost... apologetic. "Shit, sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. It’s just... you look exactly like someone I used to know. From way back."

I crossed my arms, not buying it. "Oh yeah? Who?"

"Kianna," he said quietly. "Kianna Luther. We were kids together. In the... pack."

Luther, the name of my pack before I was abandoned. Before I got adopted into the Martin family.

The world tilted and my breath caught, a rush of memories flooding in—fuzzy edges from childhood, before everything fell apart.

Playing in the woods behind the pack house, chasing fireflies, sharing secrets under the old oak tree.

And a boy—scrawny back then, with the same green eyes, always tagging along.

"Kristen?" I whispered.

He grinned, tentative but genuine. "Yeah. Kristen Hale. Holy crap, it is you."

I stared, piecing it together. He’d changed—filled out, grown into his features...but those eyes were unmistakable.

"I... I thought you were still with the pack. What are you doing here?" I muttered surprisingly.

He rubbed the back of his neck, glancing around to make sure no one was listening. The others were too wrapped up in their games to notice. "Long story. Mind if we step out?"

I nodded, and we slipped onto the balcony. The night air was crisp, carrying the distant hum of traffic. Kristen leaned on the railing, staring out at the lights.

"After you... left," he said carefully, avoiding the word "abandoned," but I heard it anyway.

"...things got rough. The pack splintered a bit. My folks stuck around, but when I turned eighteen, the mating ceremony hit. My fated mate was... not right for me. She was controlling and tied to the alpha’s inner circle so I rejected her."

My eyes widened. Rejecting a fated mate? It was rare—painful and a taboo. "What happened?"

"Pain like you wouldn’t believe. Like ripping out your own heart. But I did it. The pack turned on me—called me a traitor, said I’d cursed the bloodline." he responded, his voice was a bit shaky now.

He was getting a bit emotional. I can literally feel his pain because I’ve been through it before.

"So sorry about that...I know how this feels like. Anyways, what else happened?"

He exhaled deeply, then gave me a shy smirk before continuing.

"They kicked me out and I wandered for a while before ending up in a lycan household upstate. They took me in, taught me how to blend with humans. Got my GED, scholarships, now I’m a sophomore here at the college studying engineering major."

I leaned beside him, processing. "Lycans? Like, actual lycans?"

He chuckled softly. "Yeah. Not as territorial as wolves, more... nomadic. Helped me get my head straight. What about you? I heard rumors—your family got scapegoated for some alpha drama, vanished overnight. I looked for you, you know. For years."

A lump formed in my throat. "We bounced around foster homes. Ended up here for high school. Tried to forget the pack life." I paused, then added, "But it’s catching up. My birthday’s in eleven days and I’m turning nineteen."

His expression darkened. "The bond. You found someone?"

I sighed, wrapping my arms around myself against the chill. "Two someones. Maddox—he’s... complicated. Popular, quarterback, and an Alpha but there’s this dark side. Videos came out of him bullying someone, in fact he has always been a bully."

"Wow..a bully?" he said suspiciously with concern. " How about the other one?"

"Mordred, he’s a human. And things are really hard between us right now. Above all, you know I can’t be mated to a human and Maddox is my real mate."

Kristen chuckled. "Sounds messy. Fated bonds don’t care about mess, though. They just... happen."

"Yeah," I whispered. "I’m terrified."

He turned to face me fully. "Hey. I get it. Rejecting mine nearly killed me, but I’m free now. No pack rules, no forced bonds. If you need help—figuring out how to navigate it, or even reject if that’s what you want—I can connect you with the lycans. They’ve got ways like rituals and suppressants. It’s not easy, but it’s possible."

Hope flickered, fragile but real. "You’d do that?"

"For an old friend? Absolutely." He smiled, and for a moment, I saw the boy from the woods again. "Remember that time we built that fort by the river? Swore we’d be adventurers forever?"

I laughed, the sound surprising me. "And it collapsed on us during the rainstorm. We were soaked for hours."

"Best day ever." His eyes softened with nostalgia. "Missed that...Missed you."

The conversation flowed after that, awkward edges smoothing into easy reminiscing.

Pack stories, human world mishaps and the weirdness of blending in. For the first time in weeks, I felt... seen. Not as the girl caught between two guys, but as me. Kianna from the old days.

Eventually, the cold drove us back inside. The group had switched games—now it was Never Have I Ever, with shots for confessions.

Lesley waved us over. "Join! We’re just getting to the juicy stuff."

Kristen and I squeezed into the circle, knees brushing accidentally. As the game ramped up—never have I ever skinny-dipped (I drank), never have I ever ghosted someone (he drank)—I caught him glancing at me again.

Not staring like before, but lingering Softly. Like he was rediscovering something lost.

I ignored it, focusing on the laughter, the warmth of the room and the temporary escape.

But deep down, a new question stirred: Was Kristen just a friend resurfacing... or something more?

The night blurred from there—more games, pizza ordered at 2 AM, people crashing on beds and floors in a tangle of blankets.

I ended up on the couch with Lesley, her snores soft beside me as I stared at the ceiling.

Kristen was across the room, asleep on a pile of pillows. His offer echoed: help with the bond and get me freedom.

But those glances... they lingered in my mind, a new complication in a life already full of them.

I closed my eyes, willing to sleep. Eleven days. Maybe, just maybe, things were shifting.